Moondarkening
by YlvaThorgalsdottir
Summary: How did Bella cope with Edward leaving? Knowing her, she must at least have tried to move on. Those blank chapters in New Moon needed to be filled. This is how I fill them. I'd love to know how you feel about it.
1. October

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. I just wanted to see how Bella spent those blank pages in _New Moon_.

**Moondarkening  
>Chapter 1<strong>

**October**

When Edward left, I felt like I was going to die – and not only that; I really wanted to. The pain was intense. It felt like my heart had been punched out of my chest, and I was left with unbleeding, decaying shreds of flesh instead. I was unable to think or see through all the pain. My mind and senses were numb; even the death wish was never put into words, it was just there. When a few weeks had passed, I felt that I could probably bear it a little while longer, for Charlie and Renee's sake. I knew they would be devastated if I died, even more so if I died _willingly_. I could make myself carry on in a hollow shell, because I had to, because I had no right to ruin my parents' lives with guilt just to make my own pain stop.

The day Renée came to get me to move back in with her, apparently on Charlie's request, I refused to go. I begged and pleaded for Charlie to let me stay, promised to be a good daughter and all that. I could not leave the only place were _he _had been. I _could _not go. That is what I remember of it. I have no recollection of thrashing and screaming and going into hysterics. But on that day, my decision to go on, with or without Edward, was made. I won't say I never looked back; rather, I would never allow myself to even think back. Not to that.

So I _made_ myself get up in the morning. I _made _myself eat and go to school, do homework, all of it more or less zombie-like. The irony of being turned into a zombie by a vampire didn't occur to me. My movements were forced, my actions mechanical. I was unable to be truly present, unable to focus beyond my own agony. It would be an understatement to say that my heart had been ripped out. It was more as though someone had torn out a major artery, leaving the open end hanging out of me, my lifeblood had been poured out of me. It was as if my bond with Edward had been cut, and that was what was bleeding. I felt like I was going to go insane with grief.

Had he even been real? Had I just dreamed the whole thing, the whole family and everything we had been through?

I would find myself sitting on my bed or by my desk, studying the silver-blue scar on the back of my hand. It hadn't been a dream; I had the proof right there. That thought reminded me of a poem I had read once, one about dreaming that you picked a flower, and then waking up to find the flower in your hand. What was that poem? Somehow it seemed very important that I remember. I stared down at my desk, concentrating hard, but I couldn't remember what poem it was nor who wrote it. That reminded me of something else, some European thinker who once said something about a regular person who dreams all night that he is king, will be as happy as the king who dreams all night that he is a regular person.

"Bella? Bella!" The biology teacher's sharp voice pulled me out of my considerations. I stared at him blankly. What? Oh, class. School. Right.

My head turned automatically to my right, where Edward no longer sat beside me. I felt a stab at the realization, again. I just couldn't get used to him not being there. Or maybe I just couldn't get myself to think of it as normal that he wasn't there, as he should be. I heard the teacher sigh in resignation. Apparently I had missed his question several times. What occurred to me then was that I had registered these things clearly, as if my few minutes of intense focus had carved a millimeter-wide space in my mind where it was calm. Silent. I only had time to realize this before the space collapsed under the weight of my feelings of loss and devastation. I couldn't help it, he wasn't there and he never would be. My eyes were burning, the same instant that I realized that everyone was staring at me. The students in wonder, the teacher with pity in his eyes. I took a deep breath and collected myself, retreating back into my numbness.

"Bella," he said to me after class. The room had emptied before I had finished gathering my things. "Don't you think you should see a doctor? You seem very depressed."

That obvious, was it?

"I'm fine," I lied, tonelessly. He frowned at me.  
>"Pascal, by the way," I added out loud, just remembering.<br>"What?"  
>"And Coleridge." I fled the classroom before he could say more.<p>

Half-running through the hall, I tried to sort through those thoughts. Maybe if I could dream that he was here, I could be happy a third of the time. Maybe even half the time. I would never want to wake up, but I would believe that he was there, and on some level that would have to be good enough. Maybe that could make it bearable when he wasn't, knowing that I would see him again in my dreams. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was looking forward to going to bed. He would not _be_ there, but he would _almost_ be there, if it was up to me.

Going to sleep that night, I tried to imagine him there with me, in his – our – meadow. I tried seeing it all in my mind – his golden irises, his brilliant smile, his velvety voice humming my lullaby. His hands stroking my face and hair, his reassurances that he cared too much about me In the end I couldn't. The only image of my Edward I could conjure in my mind, was the last one I saw; black irises, pained expression, saying that he wasn't mine after all, and that he had to leave.

Why did he have to leave? He could have lived here and _not_ been my boyfriend. He could have broken up with me and I could still have seen him every day. I could have lived like that. I would have been fine with that. _Compared to what I am feeling now, I would. _I opted not to think about it. It felt like my chest was going to explode all over again.

I knew I was selfish. I knew I had to snap out of it for Charlie's sake, but there was no snapping out of it. It was more that, the more I tried to free myself from him, the more he was stuck. It was as if the hollowness in me still tried to behave like a living heart, still tried to mimic beating. My own ghost heart. Months would pass before I would dare to try this again.

I tried to find solace in simple, everyday tasks, but I soon found that both cooking and cleaning went on autopilot for me. I was capable of doing them and still be unable to wrestle my thoughts away from Edward. Even homework went on autopilot, it seemed. I was just going through the motions, and I knew it, although my mind felt too numb to process that thought all the way through. One afternoon I was in my room trying to work on algebra problems, my mind still on him, and then it occurred to me. This was too easy; I had done this already. This chapter of the text book, on algebra, I had done just enough of to understand what it was about, so I didn't need to focus my whole mind on it in order to do it.

I slammed the book shut. The memory of my little hard-won moment of peace was still in my mind. I obviously needed something more complicated to focus on; something that demanded all of me, so the numbness in my chest, and my entire body, would have a chance to heal itself. The last part of the thought, _heal itself_, made me giggle involuntarily. The sound of it was frighteningly hollow. _There is no healing for me. _I knew it was the truth. I had no hope of ever healing. _Even so, maybe I can be somewhat happy again._ The mere thought felt like a lie. _I mean,_ I quickly amended, _maybe I have _some_ hope of feeling _some_ peace, even if it is not happiness that awaits me_. That felt more likely. I could live with that. Or so I thought.


	2. November

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**November**

So I went on. I had perused the more advanced chapters of that math book, and then of all the other school books, never considering how annoying it must be for the rest of my classmates that I ended up so far ahead of them. My teachers were more annoyed than anyone, since I still could not pay attention in class; I sat in biology with the book opened at some page that was typically totally irrelevant to whatever the teacher was talking about, or even to the subject in question, studying intently. I never knew; I had succeeded in immersing myself, if only for a few seconds at a time at first, but I kept on fighting for my own mind, and so I grasped at these moments of "distraction" – the same word Edward had used to describe _his_ way of dealing with the breakup – for any semblance of peace.

I didn't really notice that my friends slipped away from me. Their superficial bonds with me were nothing compared to the bond that was broken. Although my mind felt somewhat clear when I forced it to focus on something difficult, it could only last for the few minutes I could hold it; once it slipped, the pain returned, and it still felt overwhelming. And yet, each time I forced my mind to refocus, the pain became just a little easier to bear. It was as though I was wiping my mind clear, and could feel with greater clarity as well.

I started going to the library again, since there was only so much homework I could do to distract myself. I borrowed huge piles of books, never mind their subjects. The main point was that they were demanding. It was books about philosophy and science, history and psychology. I no longer read romance novels, for obvious reasons, and skipped any pages that looked like they contained romance. I went on and borrowed books in Spanish and French as well; I had never been strong in those languages, but now at least they required me to _concentrate._ I even tried reading science fiction, since it wasn't supposed to contain any romance to speak of, and I found them quite interesting. There was nothing there that could remind me of _him_.

Still, I could not escape the pain all the time. There still _were _simple tasks to be done, dishes and laundry and cooking and cleaning. I tried doing them as fast as I possibly could, so they would require more of my attention to avoid hurting myself. That didn't really work, though, as I no longer cared much whether or not I hurt myself. I wound up using music for a distraction, and then podcasts and audiobooks. Listening was apparently not my strong point, since my mind wandered, and every time it did it found my chest with a hole punched through it and stayed there.

One day I ended up slicing my palm on a meat knife as I was hastily loading the dishwasher.  
>"This won't work," Charlie said from behind me. I turned around to face him, but my feet wouldn't follow, and I all but fell into his arms.<br>"What do you mean? What doesn't work?" He placed me on my feet.  
>"None of this. He is gone, Bella." Charlie tried to make me meet his gaze, but I felt myself drifting again. I already didn't like the turn of this conversation. I twisted free from his grip.<br>"I'll be in my room, Dad," I said quickly.  
>I put the knife on the counter. He let me go. I could feel him stare helplessly at my back as I walked up the stairs to my room.<p>

He was right. None of this worked. Edward was still gone, and the throbbing pain in what was left of my chest was as intense as when he first declared his indifference to me. Three days after my birthday. How could it have been more than two months already?

If I was totally honest with myself, it felt as if he was close, just out of reach. If I stretched, maybe I could brush my fingers against him. _But that is not what he wants. He wants me gone._ I felt my face twist into a mask of grief. If only he would come back! Then I would beg him to stay. I would leave him alone if he wanted, but I needed to see him, to know for a fact that he existed somewhere in the world. If I could feel certain about that, then the rest would be bearable. He wouldn't have to love me, or even acknowledge my existence. He just had to come back. _But he is not coming back. He said that, and you know it._I buried my face in the pillow.

That night I dreamed that he was standing by my bed, his back to me. When I reached out to touch him, my hands encountered a wall of cold, turning my arms into ice.  
>I woke up in a cold sweat, crying.<p> 


	3. December

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

**December**

The worst part was the nights. He had laid in this bed with me every night for so long, watching me sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, those dear features, but twisted into a mask of anger or agony. I couldn't decide which. I wished desperately that I could turn his face friendly again, but whenever I tried to remember his friendliness, his face twisted back into that mask. I almost heard his voice in my mind, whispering. Of all the things I read, I stayed away from mythology and horror, for fear of coming across the word "vampire."

The nights were colder now. Even thought my window was always shut, and my quilt thick, I would freeze. I laid in bed every night shivering with cold. Odd, really. I had almost grown fond of the cold, could not sleep without it; and now, I was curled up in bed, wondering if I would ever be warm again. My arms wrapped around my chest, I could feel my ribs poking out through my t-shirt.

Anorexia? It was true that I had been eating less… But that I had developed an eating disorder? It could not be. I felt sick enough at the sight or thought of food. I felt sick enough anyway. Trying to force myself to sleep, just to rest, just a little… wasn't working. I heard the echo of Edward's voice in my head. _"Promise not to do anything reckless. Promise…"_

I supposed failing to eat would count as reckless. I got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. My feet were numb with cold. I steamed some vegetables and cut them to size in order to put them in the blender. It counted as baby-food, but hey. It was food, and it was about as solid as I could stomach at this time. Drinking the vegetable-mash, I wondered idly why Charlie hadn't commented how thin I was. _Guess he's had other things on his mind._ I knew it to be a lie as I thought it. _Nonsense. He has been worried sick about you, and if you had paid any attention at all you would have seen it._I supposed I was right. I could not pay attention to reality, because the reality was that I was bleeding to death. I sighed. The reason he hadn't seen was obvious: I always wore large clothes, originally because it was more comfortable… here. So far north. But without them I would freeze to death, now.

As if that wasn't a more merciful way to die. Just go numb first, and not have to feel a thing…

I finished my mash and put everything used in the dishwasher. Then I ran back to bed before Charlie could get up and see me.

The following days I tried my best to fatten up a little. My diet had consisted mostly of books, it seemed. I was not interested in replacing them with food, but I found I could at least eat while I read. I started to make smoothies that I could drink through a straw, and curled up under a blanket in my rocking chair with a book instead of in my bed, after Charlie had checked on me and gone to bed. I forgot to pay attention to whether or not I gained weight, but at least I had the presence of mind to understand that this was a better way for me to rest. I became sleepless like the vampires that had abandoned me, and felt better for it.

Maybe it was this I was supposed to do. This way to live was obviously the one that worked for me.

Christmas came and went. I aced my midterm papers. I don't remember what presents I gave or received; I suspect Charlie and Renee took care of most of it, as if I were still little. I got an ipod and a laptop, which I later found myself using and not remembering either buying or borrowing them. For Christmas vacation I walked around in a kind of daze. There were too few demands on me that I could focus all my energy on, and I was forced to pay attention to the hollowness that rang in my chest. Charlie spent most of it down at the reservation with Billy and Harry. He asked if I wanted to come with him, but I turned him down every time. When he tried to insist I told him I was behind on my Christmas holiday reading. He didn't buy it, but he didn't ask again, either. Probably wouldn't want me ruining the holiday for everyone.

On New Year's Eve I sat on my bed reading _A Space Odyssey._ While the fireworks took turns lighting up my room in colorful flashes, I felt concentration slipping away from me. This was too easy. This was no longer enough to keep my mind off _him. _However, my mind was strengthened by the ability to focus that I had trained myself to do in the past few… was it really only months? _Those thoughts again…_Instinctively, before another thought could enter my mind, I returned my gaze to the pages of the book in my hands, but it was as if I was looking through them. All of a sudden they didn't make any sense to me anymore.

I tossed _A_ _Space Odyssey_ aside and reached for another book. _Le deuxième sexe._ I tried my darnedest to concentrate on the text, the message, or even the language, but the words went past me. Tried again with _Don Quixote de la Mancha._ It didn't work. I let the book fall and stared silently at the wall.

Now what?

I couldn't think of anything. Maybe I would simply have to find something new to study, that required inordinate amounts of concentration to keep up with? _Japanese, or advanced calculus, or… or… metallurgy, evolutionary biology, Arabic… or whatever._I knew as I thought of each one that I wouldn't. I no longer felt the overpowering need for it. My desperation wasn't gone, but it was as though I had carved out a small room for myself in my mind. It was peaceful, or at least quiet. All my studying – or rather, all my unwavering focus – had built a wall between me and my emotions, offering me a way to retreat from them.

I spent the rest of that night staring at the wall, until the last of the fireworks died down in the morning.

It was a new year.


	4. January

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

**January  
><strong>

When the street lights went out on the first morning of 2006, I started coming to. Blinking, I realized that my thoughts had been leaving me alone for awhile. My mind was silent. Edward was still there, or at least the memories of him. Edward himself was off somewhere, pursuing something he actually wanted – the familiar numbing sting of that thought felt distant – but at least he was in the world, in _this_ world, somewhere. It was like in _The Little Prince_, which I had been reading in two different languages, as part of my alleged "Christmas holiday reading". If you have a friend on one of the stars, then that justifies the existence of all the stars. _Not only that,_ I added silently,_ but all the stars will seem beautiful, just because of that._ And now, I awoke to a world that had Edward in it. He was still my Edward, even if he didn't consider me _his_Bella.

_This is like what Ghanima went through in _Children of Dune, my mind went on. _She build walls to protect her from memories that threatened to overwhelm her… _I unwrapped my arms from around my chest, choosing not to think about it. The walls I had built might still crack.

I met my own gaze in the bathroom mirror. The eyes were still glazed over with sadness, pain, grief… but the desperation was gone. Maybe I wasn't as calm and accepting of the pain as I felt, then? No, it was more likely that it hadn't begun to show. Or maybe it wasn't very deep yet. I could not remember what my eyes had looked like before, while I was still deeply in pain. While it had been going on, I had been unable to think about it. And now…

While I stood in the kitchen assembling breakfast for myself I, heard Charlie's car in the driveway. Right. He had spent New Year's Eve at the Reservation. Good thing he hadn't brought me. Maybe I wouldn't have had my epiphany then. Now I felt indifferent, and it was peaceful to be indifferent. Maybe I could grow used to it. My new diet of veggie-smoothies and fish had begun to take effect. I had added oatmeal to it for good measure. I looked healthier, at least a little. I was still pale as a sheet, dark rings under my eyes, still tense. I could keep myself warm, though, and my failing health wouldn't be a burden on anyone. That was what mattered. With a stronger body, it was again as though my feelings became easier to stand. The pain was as intense as ever, but the bleeding had subsided. It was as though I was running out of whatever it was had been draining from me since, well, since my birthday. _Maybe that means Jasper got me, and I have been dreaming the rest. _I smiled at the thought, before I realized how sick it was. Apparently, I still had something of a death wish, much as I'd tried to suppress it.

_What if he had turned you into a vampire before he left you?_ That thought hadn't occurred to me before. What then? That would conceivably be worse than this. _How does a vampire kill itself?_ That one was easier to answer. I remembered what Edward had told me about vampire suicide. It was not a simple as walking into the sun, obviously; but you could have other, stronger vampires tear you to pieces and burn the pieces, which apparently there was an old family of vampires to do to anyone who would out their secret. Vultures? No, but they had a similar name. I couldn't remember it. Then again, if I would go to them, I might out the Cullens by accident. It wasn't their fault I had unraveled their secret. Not that I would know where to find them. Italy was huge. Well, at least it was bigger than Washington State, I was pretty sure.

The days passed. I didn't really notice anymore. Maybe you _can_get used to pain, but you can't pretend to yourself it's not there. There was still school, work, house chores and books to distract me, but it didn't distract me. On some level, I had accepted that he was gone and would never come back. Once, I would have said that Edward and I were meant to be, but he clearly didn't feel that way. How could he, anyway? But I would never wish my time with him had never happened. I would never have wished to have lived without knowing him. If I had managed well on my own before I met him, the memory of who I was then still felt like a hollow shell, even emptier than I felt now. I felt hope that I could at least keep my family happy for as long as it lasted – even so, I had no doubt that this pain was forever. Instead of being with Edward forever, I had to be with the absence of Edward – forever. But at least a much shorter forever than the one I originally hoped for.

"That's it, Bella! I'm sending you home!" Charlie's fist slammed down on the kitchen table…


	5. March

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

**[February]**

**March**

I was walking the path up to the cliff. I had never seen so clearly, never felt so determined.

What did Laurent mean when he said I was Edward's mate? Like Victoria and James had been? …Like Carlisle and Esme? Soul mates. If you can have a soulmate, you have to have a soul first, right? Hadn't I always known it? My vampires had souls; they were truly human. How could Edward ever doubt it? Vampires felt love – for their mates. Their _soul_ mates.

I hadn't been Edward's, but he had been mine. My love for him would never die, but the feeling hadn't been mutual, that much was certain. He'd left me. It didn't make sense, but who was to say that I knew the rules? He had said over and over again that he loved me, that he could never live without me; in the end he had taken it back, he had left me, gone on to live without me. He had said time and time again that he would leave me if it was safer for me that way, and that had been my first instinct when I realized he was saying good-bye; but if that was it, why would he have been so cruel about it? That was the part that made the least sense. If he had just wanted to go away with Jasper and Alice so as not to split up the family, I would have understood. I would have objected at first, but I would have understood and in the end accepted, if I knew or even just thought that I was going to see him again.

I shook my head, shoved the thoughts forcefully out of my mind. It would never do to speculate about it, and I had an appointment with a hallucination. His voice was in my head now, pleading with me not to jump. _Bella,_ it said. _Bella, please don't do this. I'll come back to you. Do you hear me? Don't __be this stupid. Don't you _dare_ ju__mp_. The voice was too afraid to get angry. I gritted my teeth, resisted the plea.

I closed my eyes against the whipping salty wind.

_You wanted me to be human,_ I told it._ Watch me._


End file.
